Two writers for the price of one blog

Rub-A-Dub

♥ Something vanilla to help those in the east coast of the USA batten down the hatches tonight – and for everyone else too. – X

“Where’s the restroom?”

She rolled her eyes.

“Are you serious? I think we’ve known each other long enough for you to say ‘I gotta take a piss'”.

We had been friends for a while, but although what sometimes came out of her mouth could make a hooker blush, she was still far too beautiful in my eyes to be ‘one of the guys’.

Of course, I’ve never had the balls to say it to her.

She pointed at her bedroom in the small apartment where she’d chosen to have her birthday party (not a wise choice, if you ask me) and got close to whisper something in my ear.

“I’ll let you use mine because Randi’s agreed to let people go in her bathroom – it being my birthday and all – so that one might not be too nice.” I nodded and tried to ignore the softness of her breasts against my side. “Just ignore any girl stuff, ‘kay?”

“I’m a bit old to melt down if I see a tampon box by the toilet,” I said, rolling my eyes as dramatically as she had earlier. Her eyes lingered on mine for a couple of milliseconds too long. My knees began to shake.

“Oh, remember to raise to toilet seat,” she said, and winked at me.

The loud music seemed to fade as I wrapped my hand around her lucite doorknob. It had a plush frog hanging from it with “Stay Out” written in yellow thread. She’d had it ever since college, and many times I’d wished I was the dude with her behind that resolutely closed door…

I walked across her bedroom to the open door with a little plaque which read “No Joder*” (she’d had that in college too; a great proponent of signs was she), and my heart expanded in my chest like a balloon full of hot air.

Her whole bedroom smelled of her perfume.

I resisted the insane urge to dive nose-first into her unmade bed, ran into the bathroom and closed the door behind me. I stood in the dark for a couple of seconds before turning on the light. As strange as it might sound, you can tell a lot by how a woman keeps her bathroom – and even more if you were bold enough to crack open the medicine cabinet.

“This is silly,” I whispered out loud, and the little room was flooded with light. She had a little cabinet by the tub chock full of shiny bottles, and her shower curtain was clear plastic, with little fish filled with a jewel-colored liquid.

“Cute,” I said to my reflection, and imagined her naked body, wet and soapy, covered with multi-colored shadows. Not cute…hot as fuck.

I raised the toilet seat carefully and unzipped. Lo and behold, I was host to a raging…semi.

“God, am I in middle-school?” I whispered to calm myself as I pulled my cock out of my boxers. There was a print of a pin-up girl right over her toilet, all heaving breasts and painted lips, and it didn’t help.

As I was relieving my bladder, I noticed a brightly colored bit of cloth wedged in between the tub and the base of the toilet. I shook it off and didn’t even bother to stuff it back into my pants before I bent down to pull whatever it was free…

It was a pair of panties – used by the look of them. I dropped them like a hot potato at first, and they nearly fell into the toilet.

“Shit!”

My voice sounded louder than usual in the tiny room, and I picked up the wispy bit of lace and rhinestones from the tile at the base of the toilet. I slammed the toilet seat down and sat with them in my hand. The tiny v of cloth in the crotch where I held them was just a little stiff, and I knew well what that meant – she had used them. Recently.

My thoughts raced and my cock began to swell inexorably. Did she wear panties like this every day, or had it been for a ‘special occasion’? If felt as if she’d been wet before she took them off.

“Why am I being so creepy?” I whispered at no one, and sweat beaded on my temples although the bathroom was cold. I looked around for a hamper in which to throw them, then I considered stuffing them back where I found them. As I bent to do the deed, the delicate rhinestones flashed at me. These panties are too pretty to be ruined in a forgotten corner…

As I moved them to place them on the little shelves opposite the toilet, the lace brushed my cock and it felt so good I groaned out loud. I squeezed my cock as if to stop the pleasure from reaching my brain, but when I looked down the panties were hanging off the tip.

I turned my face to the silly shower curtain, but the image of her naked body made my hand begin to move as if it had a mind of its own.

…Her hair in a glossy chestnut rope down the middle of her back and her breasts bobbing and bouncing as she washes it…

My lips began to swell along with my cock.

…Her rinsing the shampoo off her breasts (her fat tits Jesus help me I want her) and the soap bubbles traveling down the middle of her flat belly and down...

I reached down to caress my balls as I stroked the skin of my shaft back and forth over the now purple tip of my cock.

…she has pretty hands small hands dick stroking hands…

I was blushing madly, but I still moved her panties near my face and caressed the silky lace as I stroked myself, and my sweaty fingers coaxed her smell out-

…I’m going to hell but fuck I can smell her (her pussy its her pussy) and she smells delicious…

…I want her to sit on my face, suffocate drown me in her sweet cum as I suck her clit and bury my tongue into her tight hole (her pussy cunt swollen and hot against my cheeks) while she sucks my cock…

My temples and my lips and the veins in my neck throbbed in unison as I stroked to the image of sweat rolling from underneath her heaving breasts. I breathed her in fully now that the panties were moist with my hot breath, and caught a hint of her perfume along with her musk.

…Her long hair will pool between my thighs when she sucks me and she’s not shy, her throat is hot and wet and deep and her lips are full (dick sucking lips God so pretty) and firm around my shaft as she grinds into my tongue…

When I looked down, there was a clear string of precum dripping from the head of my cock a foot long.

The door opened and she walked in, her skirt already raised and her panties already past her hips. I yelped and threw her panties into the sink with shock, but she was more than half drunk and in serious need of a piss.

“Spread your legs a little,” she said as she lowered her panties, straddled my knees and sat down. Her skin was warm and silky against my legs, and she aimed a little and actually started to pee between my legs into the toilet while sitting on my lap. My mouth dropped open and I knew my face was crimson but she just gave me a cockeyed grin and held on to my shoulders as the stream shot hot and powerful enough to mist my legs.

“What’s with the look?” she said, biting her plump lower lip as she relieved herself. “I learned this with an ex-girlfriend of mine…cool trick for those busy mornings, right?”

I realized that she was so drunk she hadn’t noticed what I was doing. She reached for a fistful of pink toilet paper. As I watched, she leaned back, supporting herself with a hand on my knee, and wiped herself (she had a little trimmed triangular patch of hair down there Lord have mercy) and threw it into the flowered wastebasket on the other side of the toilet. She sighed and kissed the corner of my mouth.

“That was nice.” She spread her legs enough for me to see the pink nestled in the brown before kicking her panties aside in the same spot where I’d found the other ones. Her skirt was still bunched over her hips as she walked out of the bathroom.

My heart raced as I was pulled my pants up and flushed the toilet. I took my time washing my hands – my cock was still hard. Her naked body materialized out of the gloom.

“You know…you can keep those too, if you prefer them to the real thing.” She smirked and flipped her long hair as she walked toward her bed.

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It was meant to be more of a tease (especially for all those hidden panty fetishists out there) than not…I thought of continuing, but felt it would somehow ruin the mysteriousness of the girl he’d desired for so long in the reader’s consciousness.

I decided to leave what happened next to the reader’s imagination – that’s what makes it a fantasy piece.

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